


Rescue Me

by Marrilyn



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avenger Loki, Discipline, Discrimination, F/M, Flogging, Healing, Hugs, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, Jötunn Loki, Loki Angst, Loki Feels, Loki Gets a Hug, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki is Not Amused, Odin's A+ Parenting, Odin's Bad Parenting, Odin's Parenting, POV Second Person, Poor Loki, Rescue, Revenge, Scarification, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: You rescue Loki from torture and offer him some well-earned comfort afterwards.





	1. The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.  
> http://imagine-it-like-this.tumblr.com/post/151308545499/

When word got out that Loki had gone missing, on a mission no less, you hadn’t expected his kidnapper to take him to an empty, long ago abandoned factory that smelled of rotten animal flesh (at least you hoped it was animal) and stale humidity in the middle of the freaking town.

You learned a long time ago not to overestimate the villains’ intelligence, but it still didn’t fail to baffle you how some people could be so stupid.

At least when Loki was a villain, he knew how to play the game. He never won, thought he was still an experienced player and he played his part perfectly.

This guy, on the other hand, was pathetic.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. A mad scientist going after superpowered people, injecting them with a magic-blocking serum that he’d invented, and then torturing them.

A textbook case of sadism.

It should have been no problem for someone as experienced as Loki. This was his first solo mission ever since the two of you had joined the Avengers – nobody trusted you enough to be on your own until now, and you both intended to try your hardest to impress the higher ups.

Yet somehow, despite all his qualifications, this moron had managed to get that serum into Loki’s bloodstream and incapacitate him for long enough to kidnap him.

You didn’t want to even think about what that bastard was doing to him. You’d seen the pictures of his other victims; hell, you’d interrogated some of them, yourself.

You’d seen what this sick asshole could do, and even the mere memory sent cold, icy shivers down your spine.

You weren’t the type of person to scare easily, yet the thought of what Loki must have been going through awoke that primal fear from deep within your core.

The Avengers were right behind you, a few minutes, perhaps even seconds away from your destination.

As usual, the moment you heard the words “Loki” and “kidnapped”, you stormed out the headquarters and headed straight for the location you’d been provided – you made a mental note to thank Tony and his AI for supplying you the information over the phone.

The team could plan their rescue in that tiny glass office all they wanted. Your stance was clear – if Loki’s in trouble, you go in and make the trouble disappear.

If roles were to be reversed, Loki would do the very same. He would never wait for silly things like plans and strategies while your life hung in balance.

He’d rescued you countless of times in the past, your very own handsome, dashing hero in green armor.

You would be crazy to not return the favor.

Fury had been perfectly aware of your conditions before asking you, albeit reluctantly, to join the team. According to him, he’d rather have a god and a powerful mutant fight for him than fear that they might turn evil again and try to take over the world.

Those _Homo sapiens_ baffled you sometimes. You attempt to enslave the Earth one time, one fucking time, and nobody lets you forget it. Whatever happened to forgive and forget?

You almost chuckled at your choice of words. You haven’t referred to humans like that in a long time. It was an old habit of yours, back from your glory days in the Brotherhood.

The days that stopped being glory the moment you witnessed your mentor, the man you’d looked up to all your life, betray one of your own after she’d sacrificed her greatest gift to save his own.

Her gift returned, eventually, after months of you listening to her defeated cries and comforting her in ways only you knew how, but you never did.

You could never return to a group that let its leader walk all over them like that.

Then you met Loki and you fell hard.

You knew Loki would never betray you like that,

And you would, likewise, never betray him.

Cracking your knuckles in preparation, you swung your fist at the metal door, blasting it straight off its hinges and sending it flying to the floor with a hard, loud thud.

If your strength was anything like that of normal human beings, your hand would have been broken.

This way, the only injuries adorning your skin were a few superficial, bloody scratches that healed in an instant, the skin knitting itself back together to perfection as though no injury had ever been there.

Thank goodness for mutation.

You burst in like a madwoman, wildly looking around, your eyes observing the foul-smelling room like hyper-powered scanners.

The sight that welcomed you wasn’t something you’d expected.

The kidnapper, startled by your sudden entrance, had jumped aside, clutching what appeared to be a thin, razor-sharp whip in one hand, and feeling his pocket for what you assumed, by the bulge, to be a blade with another.

In the middle of the damp, bare room stood a man with his hands tied above his head; tied by, you shuddered as your eyes fell upon the metallic glow, razor wire that dug deep into his skin, drawing pools of blood that dripped down his arms.

His back, naked and exposed, was bloody, full of gashes upon gashes that oozed crimson and probably felt just as bad as they looked.

You couldn’t see his face, for he was facing away from you, but you could recognize the wounded figure from miles away.

The blue skin bearing exotic markings and the long, inky-black hair were a dead giveaway.

“Loki…” you whispered, your hand instinctively covering your lips as you gasped in shock, your mouth forming a wide O. “Oh, my god.”

The serum must have blocked his magic to the very core, lest he wouldn’t have borne his true form – the form he usually hid away from prying eyes, only showing it on private occasions, when he’d be sure that nobody, sans you, was looking.

You told him countless of times that he had nothing to be ashamed of, that he was beautiful either way, that his looks changed nothing between you, but he was insistent on looking as humanoid – or Asgardian, as he’d said – as possible.

You assumed it had something to do with his father and his unbelievable expectations, but you never found the courage to ask. Loki didn’t like to talk about his family. Except for Thor, and sometimes Frigga in one of his rare reminiscences, he didn’t like anyone enough to bring them up in casual conversations.

You respected that, just as he respected your hidden demons.

Loki stirred at the sound of your voice, hissing as the metal buried deeper into his injured wrists and called for another gush of blood to slide down his trembling arms.

“Y/N…”

His voice was weak, raspy, and you did your hardest to swallow back the tears that pooled in your eyes.

You couldn’t cry. Not here, not now. You had to be strong for Loki; he needed someone to stand up for him, to fight for him and protect him from further harm.

The roles were usually reversed, but right now you were the designated savior.

As much as you loved coming to your god’s rescue, you hated what this, all of this, had done to him.

This was not your Loki.

Your Loki stood tall and strong; he looked down on others and walked with his head held proudly high.

What had that monster done to him?

Growling, you turned to the abductor, your eyes sparkling with pure, uncontrollable rage as you headed straight towards him.

He would pay for what he’d done to your beloved.

Nobody hurts Loki and gets away with it.

Especially not some random man not even worth your time.

“I will fucking kill you!” you snarl.

The man pulled out his blade, pointing it at you. You were quick to grab his wrist, your grip strong, tight, and smack away the weapon.

It was a pathetic attempt, really.

At least when he kidnapped Loki he injected him with magic blockers and rendered him helpless.

He didn’t have such luck with you. You were at your full strength, and you intended to use it, to give him a taste of his own medicine, to make him feel just how much it can hurt.

You knew that no matter what you did to this sick bastard, it wouldn’t be half as bad as what he did to Loki, but it would still hurt, and that was all you needed to feel at least a tiny bit of satisfaction.

Oh, you were going to enjoy this.

You knew that Loki would, too.

The man screamed out in pain as his bones crushed under your powerful grip. You pushed him away, your balled fist connecting with his face and sending him flying into a wall. He fell to the cold, hard concrete floor with a loud thud, the wall shaking with dust as his body’s impression left a permanent dent.

“Did you seriously think you could get away with this, you motherfucker?!”

You swung your leg at the man, your boot kicking at his ribs. There was a loud, bone-chilling _crack,_ followed by the man’s pained screams and quickened breathing, and you pushed all your self-control into holding back a smile that threatened to spill over your lips.

“I will make you wish you were never born!”

You had a feeling he’d started wishing that the moment you flattened his wrist like a pancake.

Good, you thought to yourself. He deserved everything he got, every bit of pain, of suffering, of torment.

He deserved it all for daring to hurt your beloved Loki.

You gave Tony Stark hell when he went too far with his snarky remarks about Loki.

There was no way in hell you would let something like this go.

If that bastard wanted torture, he was going to get it.

The man’s sobs as you kicked, and kicked, and kicked, over and over, amused you in ways you couldn’t explain.

You threw a quick glance at Loki, who gave you a weak, but proud smile, the one he always gave you when he was impressed.

He knew you were getting revenge for him, and he loved you for it. It gave him a tiny bit of relief from the unimaginable pain he’d been in, a moment of joy he didn’t think he could afford in such a state.

The man beneath you whimpered like a wounded puppy, bursting into a coughing fit that spat out bubbled blood mixed with oozy drool.

You knelt down next to him, grabbing a handful of his messy hair and pulling back, hard, and twisting his neck in a painful position.

Your eyes locked with his in a forceful stare, yours an angry storm of vengeance, while his seeped pain.

“If this was someone else, I might have let you go,” you told him in an icy voice. Then, lowering your tone to a chilling zero, you hissed like a venomous snake: “But you went after _him.”_

You yanked at his hair harder and he winced, hissing as another rush of pain surged through his weakened, broken body.

“No one lays a hand on him. There was someone like you once, you know? He hurt him, and I wasn’t there to stop him.”

The torturer’s face morphed into Thanos’ ugly, cold one. You remembered the state Loki was in when he’d landed on Earth, how weakened and injured he’d been when he asked for your help to take over.

He kept quiet, initially, but when you wouldn’t stop demanding an explanation, he finally gave in and told you everything. Every single detail of his short life under Thanos’ wicked hand had been revealed, every taunt, every wound, every single bruise that that monster had inflicted upon your beloved.

It was then that you swore never to let anyone harm Loki again.

You couldn’t be there when he fell, to catch him and care for him and let him know how loved he was. You weren’t there to save him when that monster took him in and tortured him into submission.

But you were here now, and you were never going to let anything like that happen again.

And if someone was to dare break that promise for you, there would be hell to pay.

Loki had been through enough. He didn’t deserve any more torment.

“I hated myself for a long time. I still do, occasionally,” you continued.

You knew Loki was listening to every single word, absorbing it like a sponge to bring it up later, but you didn’t care. This bastard needed to hear what you had to say, and Loki deserved to know how you truly felt.

If he had to find out like this, so be it.

“What you did to him is nothing compared to that monster’s treatment. He’d broken him, and I had to be the one to pick up the pieces. It took me a while, but I finally got him back. You will not take him away from me. I will never let anyone take him from me again.”

Thanos’ face faded, replaced by Laufey’s, then Odin’s; everyone who had ever hurt Loki flashed before your eyes, their smug faces mocking you, taunting you.

This wasn’t just about this man anymore.

It was about all of them. All the bastards who had ever dared to lay their hands on your Loki.

They were all going to pay, one by one.

“You may think you’ve broken him, but he’s stronger than you imagine. That man you just _whipped,”_ you spat the word as if it was poison, “is a king. Scum like you isn’t worthy to even _be_ in his presence.”

Your other hand reached for his chin, your long nails digging deep into his skin, the crescent shaped marks drawing drops of blood to the raw surface.

“I’m sick of you people thinking you can abuse him and get away with it,” you spat venomously. “I may not be able to get to the others, but you’re here and I’m sure as hell not gonna miss my chance to end your pathetic existence. Maybe in your next life you can do things right, because this one just got cut short.”

In a swift, fluid movement your hands enveloped his head and pulled, twisting it in an unnatural position. A short _crack_ echoed throughout the bare room, and you let the man’s body fall limp, motionless, onto the bloodied floor.

“Rot in hell, you son of a bitch!”

You were quickly on your feet, heading towards Loki. You were glad to see him smile, looking as proud as ever.

His head hung weakly, and his blood-red eyes looked more dead than alive, but he still found it in him to pull on a brave smile just to let you know that he appreciated everything you’ve done for him.

To let you know that he loved you, and that he was proud of the warrior you’d become.

“I’m gonna get you down, okay?” you said sweetly, sporting your own tiny smile, a slight nudge of encouragement.

This was going to hurt, and you would rather he know that you would do your best to make it hurt as little as possible than fear what would come next.

Loki nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath that resulted in another pained hiss as his wounded wrists scratched against the metal embedded in them.

“Hurry,” he rasped, swallowing hard. “Please.”

“When I undo the wire, I want you to put your arms around me and hold tight. Can you do that, honey?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Good.” Your smile widened. “I’m sorry if this hurts.”

“I can take it,” he said. “Just get me down.”

You didn’t doubt his words – what’s a little more pain if he’d already gone through that terrifying ordeal? – but you still wished this could have been done painlessly.

Where were those wretched Avengers? For sworn teammates, they sure took their time to the rescue. Iron Man’s laser or Captain America’s shield could have easily cut through that wire.

Instead, you had to lean on your tiptoes and fidget with the damn thing, while Loki kept his eyes closed, silently begging for the pain to be over, trying his hardest to hold back terrified screams that you knew gnawed at him to be let to roar free.

Finally, the metal had unwrapped itself from Loki’s wrists, and the god fell limply into your arms.

Just as you’d told him, he wrapped his arms around your neck. In turn, you put yours around his waist to steady him, careful not to touch any of the raw injuries adorning his aching back.

His skin, as blue as the afternoon sky, was cold to the touch, ice to your natural warmth. It felt nice, in a way, to feel the real him, for you were so used to fake humanoid Loki that at times you almost forgot what his true nature felt like.

He thought it repulsed you, but the truth was that you could never be repulsed by him.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting him to safety, to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s clinic so Bruce could take a look at him and decide on the best next course of action.

“It’s okay, honey” you whispered as Loki started hissing and whining at the sudden movement, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to comfort him.

Tears spilled down your cheeks in hot streams, and you let out a helpless sob.

If only there was something, anything, that you could have done to make this easier for him, to make it hurt less.

If only you could have taken at least a part of his pain onto yourself, to ease it on him.

He didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved such torture, especially someone like him.

“Everything will be okay. You’re safe now. I got you.”

You slid to your knees, gently resting your head on his shoulder. Your hand rose up to rest on his hair, caressing the messy locks; they were like silk to your fingers, soft and comforting, just as beautiful as the rest of him.

“I should have been there.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Loki told you, knowing that you did just that.

Whenever he got in trouble, you always placed the blame on yourself. Despite him constantly telling you that most of his messes were his own fault, you still couldn’t find it in you to let him take all the blame.

Loki was the first real, honest thing in your life after years of emptiness. Even the mere thought of someone taking him away from you was enough to send you into a wild, emotional frenzy.

Sometimes your protectiveness annoyed him, though mostly he appreciated you looking after him. He didn’t have many people in his life who were willing to put him first, and there you were, doing just that, and a part of him was happy to have found someone who would be willing to sacrifice anything and everything for his sake.

Another part feared that your protectiveness would get you hurt, but still, the pride and joy were still there, and he would gladly let you coddle him if that meant keeping you.

“This is on me.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s _his_ fault.”

Your eyes shot the bloodied corpse a quick, disgusted glance.

“I have to say I’m impressed,” Loki said. “I knew you were capable of atrocities, but _this?_ You’ve pleasantly surprised me.”

Only he could say something like that and mean it as a compliment.

You raised a curious eyebrow. “What, didn’t know I had it in me?”

“Oh, I knew you had it in you. I just didn’t know when exactly the monster would come out. I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

“You’re not a monster,” you told him firmly, knowing what he was getting at.

The blue of his natural skin was all too obvious to ignore.

“The Aesir think otherwise.”

“I don’t give a shit what they think,” you said bluntly. For people who prided themselves in merging magic into progressive science, Asgardians were full of filthy prejudices. “They can say whatever they want. That doesn’t make it true. I love you just the way you are. Your appearance doesn’t matter. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

You leaned back slightly, careful not to provoke his injuries, and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his cold temple.

“The color of your skin changes nothing. You’re still my Loki, whether white or blue.”

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Always, sweetheart.”

You knew this was just what he needed to hear to ease the pain, to help him manage all the hurt and suffering he was enduring. He might have seemed strong, but on the inside he was falling apart, crushed by the weight of open, still bleeding wounds adorning his back.

“The Avengers will be here any minute,” you said. “Hold on just a little longer. You will be okay. I’m sorry I can’t make it better. I wish there was something I could do.”

“You’re here,” Loki said. “That’s all I need. Though I’d have preferred it if our reunion ended on a more positive note.”

You lowered your head back on his shoulder, your hands dropping where his waited, your fingers intertwining in loose, comforting knots.

You needed him just as he needed you. You may not have been gravely injured, but you still needed him to say that he would be here, that he would be alright, that he would survive.

You knew that he would, of course, but having him this close, so close that you could feel his heartbeat, comforted you in ways you couldn’t bring yourself to comprehend.

Just the feeling of his skin upon yours was enough to reassure you.

“I know,” you said. “Me, too. But you’re alive. That’s all that matters. I can’t even begin to comprehend how much this must hurt, but I need you to stay strong, okay? I know this isn’t in your nature, but think positive. Your magic will be back soon. The effects of the serum will wear off in a few hours and you’ll be as good as new. Just gold on. Please.”

“Y/N, you know I’m not a quitter.”

“I know, honey. I also know that you’re pretending you’re fine when you’re clearly not. It’s okay to be weak from time to time. If you want to scream, it’s okay. I won’t mind. I know you’re in a lot of pain, and it’s not healthy to keep it all in.”

“I’m not much of a screamer, either." 

"Except last night.”

Loki snorted. “Fair point. Though, if we are talking about feelings, I should point out that what happened with Thanos was in no way your fault and you should not feel otherwise.” His voice grew serious, concerned. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I thought you left me. I spent months hating you and planning my epic revenge while you were being tortured. How am I supposed to just get over that? It’s not fair. You didn’t deserve that.”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s me,” he said, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m the one who gave in to him.”

“You had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not with him. I’ve heard of what he’s capable of. If you said no, he would have killed you.”

“There were times I wished he had. Times I’d begged him for death, and all he did was laugh at my misery.”

“You don’t have to talk about this,” you told him, your anger for Thanos growing. You disliked a lot of people, but he was one of the few that you could honestly say you hated.

You could hear the pain of the memories in Loki’s trembling voice, his mind, no doubt, plagued by flashbacks, each more painful than the previous one.

How could that monster do that to him? How could he live with himself after harming an innocent living being in such a way?

“There isn’t much to talk about. It’s over now,” Loki said. “I just wanted you to know that it was me who chose that path. Don’t blame yourself for my mistakes. Don’t hurt yourself thinking about him. He is not worth it.”

“I want to squeeze the life out of him,” you growled. “I want to make him pay for what he did to you, like I did with this scum. You didn’t deserve that. People always hurt you, and no one ever thinks to hold them responsible. I can’t just let it go.”

“Sometimes you have to,” Loki said. He took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze. “I understand your desire for vengeance, but there are battles that cannot be fought, enemies more powerful than we can comprehend. There will be a chance for us to get even, but for now we must stay away from Thanos and his forces. Meddling with them unprepared would do us more harm than good.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I know,” Loki said. “I’m grateful for your devotion. No one had ever risked so much for my sake. I am forever in your debt.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you said. “All I ask is that you never leave me.”

“I promise to always stay by your side.”

“And don’t hide from me, okay? I hate it when you’re hurt, but I hate it even more when you pretend like you’re alright. I want you to be yourself around me. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of.”

“You shouldn’t be seeing me like this,” he rasped. “Pain doesn’t suit me.”

You smiled lightly. “It doesn’t suit anyone. That’s pain for you. That doesn’t mean you have to hide it. It’s okay to be vulnerable. I won’t think any less of you.”

 _“I_ would think less of me. I am a prince. I’m supposed to be strong.”

“You are a king,” you corrected him, prompting him to chuckle. “And sometimes, vulnerability is strength. Everyone can pretend, but it takes great courage to openly showcase weakness. And I think you’re very brave, and much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Most men would crumble under pressure, but you’ve been through so much and you’re still the Loki I know and love. You just keep on going, and you never stop, and if that’s not strength, I don’t know what is.”

Your grip on his hands tightened, a short nod of encouragement.

“Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t hide your demons instead of facing them. Sometimes it’s okay to pretend, and other times it’s okay to cry. There is no shame in that. It doesn’t make you weak, or unworthy. It just makes you a person. There’s nothing wrong with that. And if anyone tells you differently, fuck them. They don’t know you. They don’t deserve someone like you in their life. I love you for you – when you’re blue, and white, and hurt, and happy, and sad…whatever. I love you for _you._ I would never want to change any part of you. You’re worth it, Loki. Just the way you are.”

And, just like that, his walls crumbled, and he let out a pained cry as sobs overwhelmed him.

And you just knelt there, holding him tight, rocking him like a child, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.


	2. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.  
> http://imagine-it-like-this.tumblr.com/post/151585258094/

Bruce had offered him a double dosage of painkillers, but Loki had proudly – stupidly, you thought to yourself – declined them, insisting that he can take a few hours of pain, until his healing ability kicks back in.

You tried to reason with him, and in the end even resorted to begging and threats, but nothing worked. Loki had made up his mind and there was no changing it.

Constant increase of your screams’ volume had only made him more insistent that he’s fine – his words, not yours – and that, even if he wasn’t, you had no right to force him into taking medication he clearly didn't need.

Your counterargument was that you did, in fact, have the right to do that, something he promptly ignored and kept on being difficult.

Sometimes you hated how stubborn that man could be.

You hated knowing that he hurt and you could do nothing to make it stop. His rejection of your proposals had only made you hurt more – hurt for him, for his torment, for the pain he was unmistakably burdened with, if his constant hisses and low whines were anything to go by.

If only there was a way for you to share your rapid cellular regeneration ability with him. Even if it would hurt you, you would agree to it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Anything for Loki.

Listening to stories of how his father had disciplined him as a child or what Thanos would do when he’d say something the tyrant disapproved of was bad enough, but actually observing his injuries, watching that pained look on his face as he tried his hardest to appear strong while his emotions tugged at his heart in aching rage was horrifying.

If he was to slip, to show how he was truly feeling, you felt as though you’d fall apart.

Maybe he knew that.

Maybe that was why he pretended to be so nonchalant about this entire thing – so he wouldn’t hurt you, for even in the greatest of torments, you were still his highest priority.

He was willing to put you first, well above himself, above his own wellbeing.

A part of you admired that.

The other part wished to smack that concern out of him and force him to focus on himself.

“How are you feeling?” you asked for the millionth time, pulling on a bright, loving smile.

You were lying in S.H.I.E.L.D.’S clinic’s bed, both on your sides – Loki so he wouldn’t hurt his wounded back, and you so you could face him.

Your hands held onto one another for comfort, yours more than his, though you could tell he appreciated the warmth of your touch amidst the cold pain that had overtaken his broken body.

Bruce had advised that he rest on his own, but you refused to leave his side. Loki didn’t seem to mind your insistence to stay with him until he got better. In fact, he appeared somewhat relieved that he wouldn’t have to be alone in the fragile state he was in.

He’d been alone all his life, left to bleed in the darkness, to heal on his own. Winning battles was all that mattered – praise was only meant for the strongest.

If he needed recovery, it was something he’d had to do in private, away from prying eyes.

The public needed a strong, resilient prince, not a wounded weakling.

Odin had made it clear that he was not allowed to shame the family, or there would be consequences.

There _had_ been consequences.

Luckily for Loki, he’d learned from his mistakes and from then on there had never been even the slightest trace of weakness on him. Not even when he hurt, or wanted to scream, or his mind and heart and soul begged for the pain to vanish.

He was strong. That was all the public needed to see of him.

Pain was for the weak.

And Loki wasn’t weak.

Only, things were different now.

He had you to appreciate him, to love him and care for him.

He had you to tell him he mattered and show him how much his mere existence was worth.

He had you to understand him, to always put him above everyone and everything else, and protect him with all you had.

He had you.

And you had him.

“Like hell,” Loki replied honestly, knowing that you would settle for no less than the truth.

You’d already managed to get him to lower his walls and open himself up to you, to let you in on his deepest fears and the worst of pains.

“How long will it take for your magic to heal you?” you asked, your eyes trailing up and down his half-naked body.

The body that was white instead of blue because Loki was an idiot, and you wished you could find it in your heart to hate him for it.

But you couldn’t, for it wasn’t his fault he’d grown up hating the very thing he was, the thing he’d wanted no one, not even you, to see.

The magic-blocking serum had started to leave Loki’s system and his magic had started to slowly return to him.

It would take some time for his wounds to heal, and he would still have to endure terrible pain until his magic found its full way back to speed up his healing process.

Against your advice, he’d used the tiny specks of magic he could muster to color his icy blue skin back into his humanoid white one, the one you and the rest of the Avengers team had gotten used to.

Both you and Thor tried telling him that no one minded him showing his true nature, that nobody though less of him for being a different species, and that he should preserve the little energy he’d had left, but he was insistent.

He still ached terribly, but hey, at least he looked human.

That beautiful moron.

Didn’t he see that nobody cared what his natural form was? Didn’t he see that everyone was worried about his health, his wellbeing, _him,_ and not his appearance?

Didn’t he see that you loved him just as much when he was icy blue as you did when he was pearly white, and that it hurt you to think that he still considered himself less of a person in his true form?

Time would pass, but Loki would always hate that part of himself. It didn’t matter how many times you told him that it doesn’t matter what he looked like, that you loved him either way – his Frost Giant appearance had to go, even if using magic for such an unnecessary task derailed his recovery for at least an hour.

He’d rather hurt than look like what his father – you scoffed at the word – had taught him to hate, and that made your heart ache.

It wasn’t fair.

Such a beautiful creature shouldn’t have to hide its true nature.

“The worst should be gone in about two hours,” Loki replied. “The rest in five, perhaps.”

“Remove the glamour and speed it up,” you said.

Loki shook his head defiantly. “I will be alright.”

“Nobody minds, Loki,” you told him. “Nobody judges you for what you are. You saw how worried they were when they saw you. They didn’t care what you looked like. They just wanted to help you. We’re a team. You should be comfortable being who you are with us.”

He seemed to contemplate your arguments. You could see how torn he was over himself, over his nature that was both foreign and familiar to him at the same time.

On one hand, he knew his fears were unjustified. This wasn’t Asgard, and the Avengers weren’t Odin. The standards were different here.

But there was still that part of him that feared the consequences, like a trigger waiting to be pulled.

“I’d lived a thousand years in this form. I find it satisfactory,” he said curtly.

“Do you really?” you inquired.

“I do,” he confirmed. “Do you not?”

“You know I love all your forms.”

He smiled in a way so sweet that it made your heart melt. “I’m afraid my other one will take some time getting used to.”

“Perhaps you should use it more often, then,” you suggested.

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Hey,” you put one of your hands over his cheek, giving it a gentle, loving caress, “don’t think I’m pressuring you. It’s okay if you’re not ready. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to hide who you are out of fear, because, I assure you, you’re in no more danger blue than you are white. At least not here. I don’t know much about Asgard, but here you’re welcome in any form you choose. If this is your decision, it’s okay. I respect that. But know that you _do_ have a choice. And whatever you choose, I will accept it. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“I…” he stared, at loss of words.

What was he supposed to say to that?

He couldn’t make any promises – he knew he’d never be able to keep them.

He couldn’t swear to ditch his Aesir nature and embrace his true one. He would never be able to make good on it.

For as long as he lived, he was Aesir. There was no changing that. Your words may have offered the much needed comfort and encouragement, but the mentality was burned way too deep into his core to simply ignore it.

Instead, he resorted to a simple: “Thank you.”

That had come straight from the heart.

You couldn’t even imagine how strongly he meant those two words.

You smiled sweetly, leaning in to give his cheek a light peck. “Always, honey.”

A smile of his own played on his lips before fading into blankness that you couldn’t quite decipher. “I wish to remain this way. This has been my appearance for a millennium. I can’t imagine permanently bearing the form of… _that.”_

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you assured him.

“Words can’t erase centuries of stories painting Frost Giants as monsters.”

“I know, honey. I understand. But I trust you’ll get around it eventually,” you said. “You’ve already come so far. Know that, no matter what, I won’t judge you. You could never be a monster to me.”

“You must see something the others don’t.”

You chuckled lightly. “I get that a lot.”

This prompted him to smirk.

“Even if you were a monster, I’d still love you,” you added. “I can’t imagine _not_ loving you. You came into my life when I needed someone, and ever since then I can’t see a future without you in it. Even when you were away, when I thought you’d left, a part of me still hoped that you would return and everything would be the way we planned. I wanted to hurt you for leaving me, but I also wanted you back so bad. And now you’re here, and I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”

A single tear slid down your cheek.

“All my life I felt alone. Even when I was with my people, there was still a part of me that was missing. Much like Frost Giants in Asgard, mutants aren’t the most welcome species here. There are still countries with laws that forbid our existence, and kill us if one of us dares to even exist on their soil. It’s different here, in the States. There are people that hate us, but few would resort to murder. Still, that never made me feel any better. I hated humans for what they did to us – what they still do to us. Hated them.”

Rage seethed through your every word like venomous poison as painful memories flooded your brain.

“And then I met you, and everything just sort of fell into place. And when you came to me later on with the proposal to take over Earth, I thought, why not? People didn’t care about me. Why should I care about them?”

You took in a deep, steady breath.

“But then they took you away, and locked me up and made me go to therapy sessions, and I finally realized that I was wrong. I can’t hate the entire planet for the sins of the few. And I can’t hate myself for not being what they want me to be.”

“You should hate them,” Loki told you. His smile has faded once again, replaced by rage, by vengeful fury that would look threatening had he not been injured. “They hurt your kind.”

“Not all of them do,” you said. “Just like not all Asgardians hate Frost Giants.”

“That’s different,” he scoffed.

“It’s not. I’m sure you were taught to hate your kind, but I know that you don’t, despite what you might say to convince yourself otherwise, and I know that not all of Asgard agrees with your father’s mentality. They may pretend to because he’s the king, but there are people who wish your kind no harm.”

“You know nothing of Asgard.”

His words were serious, deadly cold.

“That’s true,” you agreed, “but I _do_ know something of people. They’re not all the same. I used to believe otherwise, but now I know better. You can’t lump everyone together based on the prejudice of the loudest few.”

“Why not?” he said defiantly.

“Because,” you said, “those who hate always hate the loudest. And those who love… they usually stay silent, in fear of the loud ones. But that doesn’t make their stances any less valid.”

“They are cowards, then. Certainly not the sort I should seek approval from.”

“No, Loki. Not approval. _Understanding._ Not all of them are cowards. Some are just scared for their lives. For their loved ones’ lives, if their opinions were to become public. Just like you.”

“I’m not scared,” he said firmly.

“Why hide who you are, then?” you challenged. “Why wear a skin that was never yours?”

“It _is_ mine!” he stated. “I had worn it all my life. This is me. I am not some cowardly peasant hiding behind a mirage.”

“I never said you were. My point is, everyone has their reasons for acting the way they do. That doesn’t necessarily make them bad people. Cowards, perhaps, in some cases, but not monsters. Those would who call you a monster are the real monsters. They don’t care whom they might hurt. They just spread their hate and feed off the others’ misery. Don’t let those people make decisions for you. Don’t live your life by their rules. They mean nothing.”

Your tightened the grip on his hand.

“You deserve much better than that. You aren’t a monster, Loki. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re beautiful, both like this and as a Frost Giant. I’m not saying this out of pity or anything like that. I truly mean it. You are beautiful, and I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Appearances mean nothing. It’s what’s inside that matters. And you have so much to offer. If people could see you the way I do, they’d know why I am never giving up on you. It’s okay to prefer one form over the other. Just, please, don’t hate yourself. And if people give you hell for your appearance, fuck them. They’re beneath you. You’re worth way more than a bunch of racists.”

As if on instinct, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close so he could snuggle against you. His lips fell upon your forehead, pressing down a gentle kiss.

You expected some heartwarming speech or perhaps one of his signature monologues that he went on whenever he was particularly upset about something.

Instead, he just said: “Did you rehearse that speech?”

“I did, actually, when I went to the bathroom two hours ago,” you admitted.

“I _was_ wondering what took you so long.”

You shrugged. “Now you know.”

He chuckled. “Thank you for… everything. What you said means a lot. I don’t think I will ever be comfortable in my Frost Giant skin, but I _am_ grateful for your support. You’re the only one who never judged me based on my appearance.”

“That’s not true. Your mom loved you.”

He stiffened at the mention of Frigga.

“Thor loves you,” you continued.

“Don't–”

“Okay,” you said quickly.

You knew how much he disliked talking about his relationship with his brother, and you weren’t going to push it.

“I won’t.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, clearly not believing your words. He knew how insistent you could be when you found the right topic. Especially when that topic happened to be him.

“I promise.” You snuggled closer to him. “How’s your back?”

“Better,” he said simply.

Right. Of course he would say that. “In other words – it still hurts like a bitch?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes.”

“Does it hurt a little less?”

“It does, actually,” he said. “I don’t think it will bleed anymore.”

“But it will be better in – what is it now? – an hour, right?”

“Possibly longer,” Loki said. “I may have miscalculated.”

You pushed yourself up to kiss him. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better. Want me to leave you to rest?”

“No,” he replied. “Stay. I’m quite fond of your presence.”

You pulled on a bright smile. “I’m happy to hear that. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really wanna leave. I just wanted to hear you say that.”

“Manipulation? Oooh, I like that. It appears I have taught you well.”

He couldn’t have sounded more proud if he tried.

You giggled. _“You_ taught _me?_ Please. I think it’s the other way around.”

“And here I thought I was the liar in this relationship,” he teased.

“Honey, you’d be lost without me,” you said in a deliberately overly dramatic manner.

Loki shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I _know_ so,” you said.

You laid in silence for a few quiet, peaceful moments, your hands finding their way back to each other to hold onto.

Finally, not able to hold it in anymore, you said: “Would you like to talk? I’ll listen.”

Loki frowned in confusion. “Talk about what?”

“About what happened,” you said. “The whole kidnapping slash torture thing.”

“What is there to talk about?”

He seemed honestly baffled.

“Oh, I don’t know. If that happened to me, I’d be traumatized.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he insisted, stubborn as always. “I’m used to pain. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, but… he _whipped_ you,” you said. “That’s just… cruel. It’s cruel and vile, and I can’t even imagine what it was like for you to be tied up like that, unable to do anything to stop him.”

“It wasn’t exactly my first time.”

Of course it wasn’t.

Why weren’t you surprised?

“Do I want to know?” you inquired.

“I suppose not,” Loki said. “Odin had rather… _unique_ ways of discipline.”

“Of course,” you said sarcastically.

Odin’s name was the first thing that popped into your mind when Loki said that it had happened to him before.

You knew of his rather extreme disciplinary methods, but whipping? His own child, at that?

Daddy dearest truly was full of dirty secrets.

“Reserved for me. Thor would simply go to bed without supper, and I…”

You could tell it was painful for him to bring back those long forgotten, deeply buried memories.

“It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. He may be a king in Asgard, but he has no power here. And if he is to ever try to lay a hand on you again, I will fight for you with all I have.”

“You needn’t dirty your hands, Y/N. I can take Odin,” Loki said, though it was obvious he appreciated your promise.

“I know you can. I’m your backup.” You winked. “He stands no chance against the both of us.”

Loki smiled. “You’re a feisty one.”

“That’s why you love me,” you said innocently.

He couldn’t argue with that.

“So,” you said, “this won’t leave scars, then? I mean, you had none before, and you said you’ve been through this already, so…”

“No, it will not leave scars,” he confirmed.

“Good.” You smiled. “Very good. But just so you know, it would make no difference. I’d love you even if you were covered in them.”

“I know you would.”


End file.
